Prometheus
by TheIronSamurai
Summary: Four years after the end of the Human-Covenant war, the galaxy has changed. Humanity has taken its rightful place among the stars. Spartans have gone from being silent defenders to the vanguard of humanity's expansion. This role comes at a price, however. As humanity reclaims its ancient birthright, one Spartan team will stand at the center of it all.


**1015 Hours, February 21, 2557 (Military Calendar) \**  
><strong>Aboard <em>UNSC Ajax<em>, Location Classified**

The wall shuddered, the lights dimming for a split second. The crewmembers filling the hangar bay ignored the disturbance as if nothing had happened. They continued to fill the single D82-EST Darter cargo ship with crates of varying sizes. Most were marked as general supplies, carrying essentials like food, water, or medicine. Some, however, stood out from the rest. The black titanium crates were simply marked "ONI SECTION III TOP SECRET."

The crates weren't the only things that stood out in the hangar, though. A few enlisted men stopped to sneak glances towards the rear of the Darter, before being berated by the deck officer. Lieutenant Falk shook her head and turned away from the now scurrying crewmembers. She had followed their gazes to the disturbance.

Near the Darter's rear hatch stood four armored giants. They had been standing there for almost an hour now talking amongst themselves. Their armor, a polished gunmetal gray, contrasted deeply with the green backdrop of the Darter's hull. Unlike the ODSTs, who had been walking around in fatigues the whole voyage, these soldiers preferred to keep their state-of-the-art armor sealed up. _I've never seen any of their faces_, the lieutenant realized. _Doesn't help the image of them being machines._

It was hard not to stare at the Spartans. Their predecessors had been touted as humanity's protectors: legendary warriors with decades of intense training and equipped with the most advanced technology known to man. It was no secret that the Spartan-IIs and IIIs had saved humanity half a dozen times over the course of the Great War. The Master Chief had become something of a demigod to soldiers and sailors like Falk. The IVs were no less impressive looking, with their laundry list of biochemical and cybernetic augmentations as well as bleeding edge equipment. But still, Falk had served with Spartans before, and none of them acted quite like these ones.

Spartan-IVs were almost notoriously different from their predecessors: loud, emotional, and less… robotic than the IIs and IIIs. Falk supposed that it stemmed from their recruitment procedures: the IIs and IIIs, if the stories were true, were trained from a young age to be soldiers, augmented at the onset of puberty. The IVs, on the other hand, were selected from among the most battle-hardened soldiers of the Great War, from ODSTs to Army Airborne troopers. Their augmentations were less extensive and they lacked the years of conditioning that the original Spartans had. The IIs and IIIs were almost emotionless, whereas the IVs acted human, for lack of a better term. Most IVs, at least.

A voice woke the lieutenant from her musings with a start. Turning to face the speaker, all Falk saw was a gray titanium chest plate. Tilting her head upwards, her eyes widened at the Spartan who had somehow snuck up on her. _How is that even possible?_ She quickly sized up the supersoldier, taking in his imposing physical appearance while trying not to show her trepidation.

His body type, broad shoulders and a powerful chest, betrayed his sex. Like the rest of his fireteam, his armor was painted standard gray. At this distance, though, Falk could see the scratches and dents from years of combat and training exercises. He wore the Soldier variant of the GEN2 armor suite, the design of which unintentionally (or perhaps not) struck fear into the lieutenant's heart. The helmet's pattern in particular sent chills down her spine. It was up-armored, with a thick metal cowl covering the lower half of the facemask. Instead of a large polarized faceplate, a single horizontal visor ran across his eyes, painted black as the gulf of space.

He spoke, his helmet's speakers adding an eerie metallic filter to his already imposing voice. It was a deep baritone, but it was rather soft, almost pained, which was odd considering Falk's previous experiences with Spartans. "Lieutenant, what is the estimated time to departure?" It took her a few seconds to compose herself and clear her throat to respond. "Flight officer has you scheduled for departure in twenty minutes, Spartan." A single drop of sweat trickled across her brow as she awaited his reply.

To her surprise, the armored behemoth nodded so slightly that she almost missed it. Then, without a single word, he turned and started walking to join the rest of his team. Falk's shoulders dropped as the tension from the encounter left her body. She breathed a sigh of relief and refocused her attention to the loading procedures.

* * *

><p>Onyx One crossed the thirty meters from the Lieutenant's position on the deck to his team's in seconds, his long strides and powerful muscles propelling him forward. His teammates had all congregated around one of the mobile weapons trolleys scattered throughout the deck. One of his Spartans noticed his approach and turned to face him fully. The rest of his team followed suit soon after. <em>Good, everyone's here.<em>

"Give me a sitrep, Two." He directed his attention to a male Spartan outfitted in the Rogue armor variant. Onyx Two was different than most other male Spartans: he had a decidedly leaner build and was about six feet five inches in his armor. One knew, though, that Two was not to be underestimated. The short Spartan was the most brilliant marksman One had ever seen. For this mission, however, his long-range talents would be less utilized.

"All equipment and weapons are already on board. Once the deck crew finishes loading the Darter, we'll be ready for dust-off." One nodded in affirmation and turned to the assault specialist of the fireteam, Onyx Three. While Two was lithe and compact, Three was muscular and gigantic, towering over the rest of Team Onyx at seven feet three inches. While his strength was something to behold, his speed was still blinding, enough to stun any enemy. Three's armor reflected his particular style of combat. The Vanguard armor, which was up-armored on his request, was designed to just one thing: direct engagement with enemy forces.

"Three, what's the loadout for this mission?" Three turned and strode over to the weapons trolley, followed closely by the rest of the fireteam. When everyone had finally circled around the trolley to watch him, Three reached into the trolley, rooted around for a few seconds, and withdrew a shotgun from one of the racks. "First, we have the M45D tactical shotgun, loaded with M296 SC 8 gauge shells. Standard loadout of 30 shells." He racked the slide to empty any remaining shells and placed the shotgun back on the rack. Next, he grabbed an assault rifle. "MA5D assault rifle, chambered for 7.62 FMJ-AP." He tossed the rifle to the team leader, whose hand snapped up to catch it.

"Looks like a full combat loadout." The team leader examined the assault rifle as he spoke. He had always preferred the weapon from his first days in basic training, a preference hammered home by his long career as an ODST. It was simple but elegant, able to put out an immense amount of fire downrange. Syncing the rifle with his HUD, he watched the icon appear in the upper right corner. Walking over to the weapons rack, he picked up a full magazine of 7.62 mm ammunition and loaded the assault rifle. He cycled the bolt and then placed the assault rifle on his back. The magnetic strips located there secured the weapon with an audible click.

The rest of his team followed his lead. Onyx Four was the first to step up to the trolley and started to load a shotgun with shells. Her armor reflected her MOS before she joined the Spartan-IV program: a specialization in explosive ordnance. Four had selected the EOD suite, its helmet upgraded to better link with and detonate remote explosive devices.

The second member of Onyx Team to select her weapons was the team's resident stealth recon and zero-gravity combat expert, Onyx Five. Five, unlike most Spartans, actually used two different armor variants, depending on the parameters of a given mission. Her mainstay was always the Air Assault variant, a constant from her days as a NAVSPECWAR operator. However, when the mission called for zero-G combat, she would swap it out for the EVA armor, which she further optimized for her style of flee-floating combat. Right now, she was wearing the Air Assault armor, as their mission would not (hopefully) involve zero-gravity fighting.

Onyx Two and Three also loaded up with weapons and ammo. The whole team was armed within twenty seconds. "Equipment check." One accessed his armor's systems via his neural interface, initiating a full system scan. While his armor was not equipped with any additional technology packages, called "armor abilities" by most Spartan-IVs, it was an upgraded command version of the GEN2 armor. He had mounted a TACPAD in his left gauntlet, allowing him to access various UNSC databases for combat information. In addition, the suit had improved radio and satellite uplinks, fitting with his role as team leader. Finally, his armor was singularly unique in that it possessed something no other MJOLNIR [GEN2] armor did: the potential to carry an A.I. It utilized the memory-processor superconductor layer from the Mark VI armor, which was combined with his upgraded neural interface to allow for integration with a "Smart" A.I. However, the Spartan in question had never been given an A.I. to utilize, as they were far and few between following the end of the Great War.

The scan started. First, the weapons and equipment uplinks flashed on his HUD twice. The ammo counter flickered briefly before the scanning software began to access other systems. His shields cut off, the audible alarm blaring in his helmet before One shut it off with a thought. Almost instantly, the shield began to recharge. The golden glow of the MJOLNIR shields accompanied the refilling shield bar. A window then opened across his HUD, code flashing across the screen so fast it was a blur even to his enhanced eyes.

Ten seconds later, the screen flashed green, signifying the end of the system scan. Assured that his armor was operating at optimal levels, One stepped up to the weapons rack. He began to put cartridges for the MA5D in storage compartments on his chest, his armor's HUD keeping track of his ammo count. He then began to slide shotgun shells into the remaining armor compartments, making sure that he was loaded for bear. Satisfied with his ammunition reserves, the Spartan team leader yanked a shotgun from the trolley.

"Let's get to work, people."

* * *

><p>The five members of Onyx Team strode over to the crew hatch of the Darter. The movement of the Spartans was not lost on the crew of the <em>Ajax<em>, who turned to watch them. The supersoldiers noticed this, taking in the silence of the once bustling hangar bay. They stopped in front of the crew hatch of the Darter, turning to face the Navy personnel once more. Long seconds of silence followed, broken by the sound of footsteps on the metal deck.

A lieutenant commander, by his insignia, stepped from the crowd of sailors, striding to meet the Spartans. As he moved closer, the VISR modules in the Spartan's helmet flagged him as "LCDR Andrew Webb" and gave a quick summary of his CSV. By the time Onyx One had scanned the information, Webb had stopped directly in front of him.

The Spartan, at 6 feet 11 inches, towered over the officer, who couldn't have been more than five feet ten inches. Nevertheless, Webb smirked and stared into One's visor. The commander couldn't see, but the Spartan's rugged face displayed utter shock. Not many humans could stare into a Spartan's visor like that without flinching in the slightest. But it was the officer's next action that completely stunned the Spartan.

Andrew Webb extended his right hand outward to the armored supersoldier. His brain was slow to respond, but after a few seconds, One's armored gauntlet enveloped the man's much smaller hand. Webb smiled broadly and then pulled his right hand away. "Lieutenant Commander Webb, from Engineering. I just couldn't believe it when I saw the crew manifest. Honest to god Spartans, I thought, but then I saw your unit." If it was possible for Spartans to look puzzled, Fireteam Onyx fit that description. Their heads all cocked a little to the left, and their fingers started to twitch slightly.

"I think I speak for all of us when I say thank you for your service. The ship wouldn't be here if it wasn't for your team taking out those AA guns during that fight on Malurok." At the mention of "Malurok", the entire Spartan team tensed up, with One's hands folding into fists. This action went unnoticed by Webb, who continued on. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Spartans." He snapped into attention, saluting, and shouted, his commanding voice resounding throughout the crowded hangar. "Spartans on deck!" Almost immediately, the dozens of Navy personnel in the hangar followed Webb's example, the sound of their boots echoing loudly.

Fireteam Onyx stood stunned for a second or two, which seemed like an eternity. Then, Onyx One returned the salute, with the rest of his team following suit. "Thank you, Commander. We were only doing our duty." He tried to keep the pain in his voice hidden, aided by the metallic filter of the external speakers. The exchange was making him relive memories he would rather leave forgotten.

The Commander stopped saluting the Spartans and was quickly followed by the Navy crews in the hangar. "Duty? I'd say…" The officer left it at that and walked away, shaking his head in disbelief. Fireteam Onyx, miffed and confused by the encounter, turned around and walked towards the Darter. They had work to do.

* * *

><p>The Darter pulled away from the <em>Ajax<em>, the cruiser's energy shields visibly lowering. The golden glow of the shielding reminded the Spartans of the MJOLNIR armor's own protective barriers, and moreover the advancements the UNSC had made in the post-war era. Not only had humanity survived the deadliest conflict in its existence, it had achieved a level of technological prowess that would have taken decades, or even centuries, to achieve otherwise. Human ships now could travel through slipspace with precision, energy shielding was being mounted on military vessels, and real-time communications across vast distances was now a reality.

Onyx Two stared at the shrinking bulk of the cruiser through the rear viewport, watching its shields activate once again. The glow was almost mesmerizing. Almost. The Spartan shook his head, realizing that he was daydreaming again. Turning his attention forward again, he strode forward to the front of the cargo bay, joining up with the rest of the fireteam.

They were standing around a holographic projection of an asteroid field, emitted from hidden holotanks in the ceiling. Another holotank nearby projected an image of an impeccably dressed man in a tuxedo, holding a martini glass in its right hand. Two sighed as he recognized the avatar. It was Bond, the _Ajax_'s A.I. and a major pain in the ass. For one thing, the "smart" A.I. wouldn't stop saying "The name's Bond, James Bond." For another, its nonchalant attitude pissed the Spartans off to no end. Two held his tongue, however, as he noticed the tense body language of his comrades.

Bond, swirling his imaginary drink around, was speaking. "Finally, the last Spartan shows up. I'll start the briefing." He was stopped by a loud grunt of disapproval coming from Three. The massive Spartan stepped towards the A.I., towering over the miniature avatar. "Team leader always briefs us, sparky. Not some goddamn A.I. who hasn't learned to keep quiet." Two found himself nodding in agreement, but kept his mouth shut.

Bond turned to the assault specialist, with a stupid grin on his face. "Of course, Three. I'll transfer the relevant data to you now. I'll just focus on flying this ridiculous ship with less than a thousandth of my processing power." The British-sounding voice ceased suddenly as he focused his attention elsewhere. His avatar disappeared soon after, eliciting a vocal sigh of relief from several members of the team.

"Now we can get to work." Two had spoken out of turn, but One allowed it. The rest of the Spartans nodded in agreement and turned to their team leader. The Spartan hadn't said a thing during the terse exchange. He seemed to be lost in thought. Two rolled his eyes and clicked the TEAMCOM twice. The noise caught One's attention, his helmet jerking just slightly. Turning to face his team fully, the leader looked down at his arm-mounted TACPAD and inputted several commands.

The holographic projection of the asteroid field zoomed in sharply, focusing on one of the major clusters. Two large asteroids were present at its center, with dozens of smaller celestial objects surrounding them. The two asteroids were linked by what looked like a manmade umbilical of some kind, projected by a glimmering energy shield. The larger of the two, at around fifteen kilometers in diameter, had multiple structures on the surface, while the smaller one, at eight kilometers, was completely barren.

"This is our new station, Spartans. ONI Research Facility 054323-45, designate Prometheus. Other information on the station's purpose is highly classified, but we can safely assume, based on the secrecy of its location and defenses, that it is a Tier-One R&D facility. The station is currently home to 419 scientists and their families, in addition to a company of Marines and two full platoons of ODSTs. We've been ordered by the brass to review and revise the station's defensive tactics and strategies, and to aid the existing security forces.

The station is built into the asteroid, with only about 25 percent of the facility being on the surface. Most of the aboveground structures you see here are defensive buildings and short-term storage warehouses. The heart of this facility…" One pressed a button on his TACPAD. The hologram zoomed in further, showing the interior of the big asteroid. It was a veritable maze of hallways and rooms, with a central command center three decks above the station's reactor in the heart of the asteroid. "…is underground."

Two spoke up at this point. "So what's the point of this briefing? Won't the station's commander give us the information on defenses when we get there?" Onyx Three nodded slightly in the affirmative, signaling his agreement. One was impassive as he spoke.

"Because we have to storm the facility."

The Spartans stood there in silence. To say they were shocked would be an understatement. Why were they storming an ONI facility they were supposed to be protecting? Five was the first to lift the veil of silence. "Sir, that's insane. Why?"

"Unknown, but orders are orders. Until we can confirm that UNSC forces are in control of the installation, we are to treat any contacts as hostile. We are to assume that the internal station defenses are trained on us and ready to engage. As of now, we are at TACCON Red."

Three grunted loudly, expressing the team's thoughts at this revelation. "So what now, sir? We're gonna break the door down?"

"Essentially yes. We're going to have to secure both the station's control room and the reactor complex simultaneously. Two and Five, use your stealth mods to get to the reactor. Three and Four, you're with me. We're going to draw the security personnel away from the reactor and head for the control room at the same time."

Two and Five nodded. They were often paired up for stealth missions and were used to working together. Four, meanwhile, bristled under her armor. "Sir, you know what happened the last time we split up."

One turned away from the hologram and strode towards the cockpit without responding. Just before he reached the door, he spoke to her in a pained voice. "I know." He opened the door and stepped into the cockpit without another word. The automated door slid shut with a hiss, leaving the rest of Onyx Team in the cargo bay alone.

* * *

><p>For the last five minutes, the Spartans had spread apart. Onyx Three and Five were still analyzing the internal defenses of the station, while Two laid atop two crates made into a makeshift bed. He had closed his eyes for a mere ten seconds before a shadow fell over him. His eyes flashed open, taking in the armored behemoth standing over him. Even through her armor, Four radiated intense emotion. Two sighed and sat up, his armored feet clanging as they brushed the titanium deck.<p>

"What's on your mind?" The female Spartan wouldn't respond, so Two tried again. "What's the matter –" "This whole mission plan is a shitstorm just waiting to happen. And don't get me started on his command style. It's like we're just objects to him, not real people. When did he become a robot?" Her arms were crossed on her chest and her helmet angled pointedly away from Two. Two stood up shaking his head.

"We've all been through a lot since Malurok. You just need to give him time to grieve." Two pushed past Four, ignoring her angered grunt and heading for the other two Spartans. Both had heard Two and Four's exchange. Three stepped away from the hologram and started to walk over to Four past the approaching Spartan. Five, on the other hand, had ignored what she heard, firmly engrossed in what she was doing.

Two stopped behind Five and placed his hands on her shoulders. The action startled her. She turned around in the blink of an eye, knocking his hands away. He heard the whirring of her prosthetic right arm as it rose into a guard position, the mechanical fingers curling into a fist. It took her a short amount of time to recognize her supposed assailant before she dropped her arms.

"Oh, it's you. Sorry." Her shoulders slumped and her head dropped in shame. Two smirked under his visor and crossed his arms. "Well, well, someone's a little antsy." "Of course I am. This is my first combat op since…" Her throat closed up and she grew quiet. She gestured to her prosthetic without a word.

Two nodded in affirmation and dropped the subject. Before either acknowledged the awkward silence, a flash of light from the hologram drew their attention. Bond's avatar had materialized. "Spartans, you have one minute and twenty-two seconds until docking. Now might be a good time to get ready to dance." Three growled at the last remark, taking a threatening step towards the A.I. Bond, looking flustered, disappeared just as quickly as he came. "Damn computer…" The massive Spartan grunted as he grabbed the assault rifle from his back, cycling the bolt.

The cockpit door slid open with a whir as One stepped into the cargo bay. "Let's move, Onyx. Standard spearhead formation: Three in front, Four and me following. Two and Five, I want you to move in two mikes after our insertion. From there, you know what to do."

The Spartans nodded in acknowledgement and moved to the cargo airlock on the starboard side. Three took his position right in front of the massive door, his finger hovering over the trigger. One and Four stood behind him, assault rifles at the ready. Two and Five, on the other hand, hid behind the crates near the entrance, keeping their presence concealed. One opened the mission clock in his HUD: seventeen seconds to hard seal. At ten seconds, the Darter shook as it made contact with the station's airlock.

One flashed a yellow acknowledgement light over the TEAMCOM: _Ready._ The metal hull clanged again as hard seal was made. The mission clock hit zero seconds. This time, a green acknowledgement light.

_Go!_

* * *

><p>Three moved swiftly through the airlock chamber, his weapon at the ready. Four sprinted up to the door control, flattening herself against the wall. One took a similar position at the other side of the door. Three stood in front of the titanium portal. He checked his motion tracker: the other side was clear. The Spartan nodded to his female comrade, who hit the door control. It flashed green as the ten meter-wide entrance opened up.<p>

The three Spartans moved into the hallway, sweeping it with their weapons. Seeing no hostiles, they lowered their weapons and moved forward. Twenty meters ahead, there was a bank of freight elevators. Once the three reached the elevators, One keyed the TEAMCOM. "Two and Five, the hallway is clear. Move up." Two green acknowledgement lights flashed on his HUD. Twenty seconds later, the entire fireteam had piled into a single elevator. One pressed two buttons on his TACPAD before turning to his team.

"The cameras in here are down, so here's the plan. Two and Five, head for the reactor on Deck H. We'll draw the attention of the security teams when we head for F Deck. Three, when we hit opposition, fire up the overshields. That'll paint us as the main target."

Three flashed a green acknowledgement light on the TEAMCOM. One nodded and turned to Five. "Time to hit the camo." Without a word, Five activated her armor's active camo unit. She shimmered out of sight. Two nodded and activated his passive camo unit. His suit, while lacking an active camo unit, could put out electronic interference to make him invisible to most sensors and cameras.

The stealth team took positions at the elevator door as it slowed to a stop. Once the door slid open, the two Spartans moved out, heading right along the adjacent hallway. The assault team moved the opposite direction, towards the control room.

* * *

><p>Two and Five slid down the elevator cables towards Deck H. They had swung back around and pried open one of the elevator doors once the assault team had left. While the control room was on Deck F, where the entire fireteam had exited the elevator, the reactor complex was on Deck H, almost five hundred meters deeper in the asteroid. The stealth team needed to descend there discretely, so the elevators weren't an option. Hence, the cables.<p>

Two pried open the doors with a grunt, letting his cloaked companion slip through. Stepping through slowly, he let the doors slam shut behind him. Bringing his assault rifle up to sweep the hallway, he was satisfied to see no contacts. Five flashed a green acknowledgement light over their COM channel, indicating the same.

The two Spartans moved out. After nearly five minutes of creeping through the station, they were relieved to reach the entrance to the reactor complex. Five chuckled and took a few steps forward…

…just as two automated turrets sprang out of the ceiling panels and golden energy shielding activated over the blast door. Similar doors and shields sealed the hallway in front of and behind the stealth team as well. Two swore audibly and brought his assault rifle to bear on one of the turrets. That's when he noticed that the turrets' laser targeting module wasn't locked onto him. The sights were locked onto the barely visible Five. _How? It shouldn't be able to pick up on her heat signature, her camo mod is the most advanced piece of cloaking tech in both the UNSC and Covenant_.

Two knew that it was over. If he opened fire on the turrets, there was no way to destroy both before the guns killed his partner. He lowered his weapon and keyed the TEAMCOM. "One, this is Two. We have a situation here, over."

Seconds passed as he waited for a response. "Copy that. Same on this end, over."

* * *

><p>One cut off the transmission as he looked at the ODST pointing a battle rifle's muzzle in his face. Behind him, both Three and Four were surrounded by two separate squads of the elite shock troops. They were mere meters away from the control room when the trap had been sprung. The shock troopers had come from hidden alcoves hidden by advanced holographic camo generators. No fewer than four auto-turrets were trained on the team of Spartans; the ODSTs just added to their raw firepower. If his team made any sudden movements, even their armor wouldn't save them.<p>

"Lieutenant, stand down." A commanding voice came over the general COM, picked up by both Spartans and Helljumpers. The ODST threatening to brain One chuckled and lowered his weapon. "Boys, switch your IFF tags on." The ODST lieutenant spoke with a crisp accent, similar to the settlers of Inner Colony worlds who had shed their ethnic roots. One's mental analysis of the officer's accent was interrupted by a ping from his armor's VISR module. It highlighted the ODST in green on his HUD, indicating the activation of an IFF tag. _That's how they got the drop on us._ The platoon had deactivated their IFF tags

His HUD identified the Helljumper as "LT Gladstone" and listed off his unit: "7th Shock Troops Battalion." The Lieutenant depolarized his helmet, revealing a young face. _They get younger every year._ The fair-skinned youth had piercing blue eyes and stray blonde hairs which hung down over his face. His face, One realized, was devoid of scars, but his eyes revealed a heaviness that betrayed his nature. Gladstone had fought in the Great War, just like One.

"So, Spartans can be surprised. Never thought that plan would work." The lieutenant's lips parted in a wide smile, a rare display of emotion for most veterans. "Fighting with the Master Chief at Voi and the Ark makes you think you know Spartans, then this happens. Lieutenant Samuel Gladstone, 7th Shock Troops."

"It's a pleasure, sir." The Spartan's response was brusque and to the point. The Lieutenant's smile faltered. _There is no pleasing these guys._ The supersoldier deactivated his external speakers and turned to the rest of the assault team. Both Spartans nodded, flashing green acknowledgement lights over TEAMCOM. "This is Onyx One to Bravo Team. What's the situation, over?"

"This is Two. We're green One. Just a little shaken up, over." Two did sound shocked. The events of the past few minutes had shattered what remained of his faith in the Spartans' absolute technological superiority.

"Copy that. ETA to our current position?" One watched the auto-turrets retract into hidden ceiling panels as he spoke. This was accompanied by the audible deactivation of the control room's energy shielding.

"Twenty seconds. We picked up an escort, though. I count twelve ODSTs. Do we engage, over?" Two sounded as if his finger was hovering just above the trigger with the safety off. One grimaced internally. An antsy Spartan could be deadly for the shock troopers and eventually Two himself.

"Negative, Two. Stand down until further orders, over." "Wilco, One. Over and out." The COM clicked as Two closed the channel. One reactivated his external speakers and turned to the Lieutenant. "Sir, what is the situation?" The lieutenant, his faceplate repolarized, turned to face the Spartan. "We meet the captain."

* * *

><p>The five Spartans and their Helljumper escort moved into the control room. The chamber was as big as a cruiser's bridge, and was oriented very similarly. Various stations were crewed by naval officers, ranging from baby faced ensigns to grizzled, battle hardened commanders. Fireteam Onyx was led towards the center of the room. They saw a single man standing in front of a holotable, reviewing what appeared to be security footage. As the image became clearer, the Spartans realized it was the footage of their capture.<p>

"Nice job you pulled off out there. It took Athena almost five minutes to develop a tracking algorithm for the guns to find your cloaked ace in the hole." The man had spoken to them without turning. He paused the video just when Two and Five were caught. Chuckling, he turned to face Onyx Team.

The five soldiers took in the man standing before them in a glance. He was Caucasian, with an accent that sounded similar to Reach colonists, but also a hint of the signature Harvest drawl. Grey hairs at his temples and wrinkles here and there gave him a middle-aged look. The cane he leaned on didn't help with that image, either. However, when the officer looked directly at them, they saw his eyes.

Those eyes. They conveyed loss, anger, guilt, and a dozen other emotions. Moreover, they possessed a quality that was only seen in true veterans, soldiers who had survived through a great length of the Covenant War. This hardness, for lack of a better term, stemmed from losing everyone and everything one had ever cared about. One had served with many such troopers over the years. Few had survived the battles for Earth, but those who did manage to see the hard-won peace did not change. If anything, they seemed to fade away. They were no longer men: they were ghosts, distortions of their former self.

The Captain, judging by the eagles on his shoulders, limped towards the Spartans. His eyes unsettled all five supersoldiers, an unusual experience for all of them. His right hand clutched the titanium cane, which supported his weakened right leg. The Spartans' eyes collectively flickered down to his chest, where a bevy of medals and awards, including the Legion of Honor, were pinned to his uniform. This captain, it appeared, had been on the front lines, whether it be on the ground or in space.

Fireteam Onyx collectively snapped to attention, saluting the captain. "Fireteam Onyx reporting for duty, sir." The ONI officer returned the salute. "At ease, Spartans. Captain Ambrose, ONI Section Three. Welcome to Prometheus."


End file.
